He woke up from a dream today,
To gaze sight at the break of dawn,
A part of his life gone for the day,
As the morning dew drops on the lawn

Precious memories mingled with emotions,
As the night before played in his mind,
A beauty that needs full devotion,
The red tulip blooms for his kind

Tears fill his dazed eyes,
A thought lingers for that touch,
This heart twisted with cries,
His mortal love for a soul he has not seen much

The dark clouds sweep in gracefully,
Announcing the fall of the mighty rain,
This soul sits in the corner of despair,
Afraid of that grey world of calamity

The windowpane becomes blurry,
And so do his visions of her fade away,
In the cold midnight chill,
Leaving the darkness to prevail

He kneels down by his bed,
Gazing up at the darkened skies,
The moon shining bright,
And the stars twinkling brighter

He prays to the nightfall,
As his ravenous beauty dances with the stars,
Her shadow among the clouds,
An apparition hidden among the darkness,

This dark forlorn love,
As the sands of time change,
He remains there still,
An embodiment of his sacred feeling,
Worshiping her, day and night.

Vijaya Balan (2008)

The wind swept by in a gust,
The only sound in the deadly night
Rattling the branches and the leaves,
Sending a chill, cold and calm

He stood by in the distance,
Gazing up and down,
Then left and right,
Tonight is the night,
Where the city slept ever so peacefully,
Yet his mind drifted restlessly,
Tonight his mind and world crashed

The deserted street roads had a calming effect,
Why so? He did not know,
The bare shops and empty town painted a lonely picture,
Yet he was content to sit by and watch the picture dry,
He can sit by and watch it dry,
The picture in a distance of him and the world

**** them all,
The leaves danced in the windy night,
**** them blind,
To a melody in his wandering mind,
He sat with contempt and content,
Smirking at the forsaken city,
The lonely house by the beach,
Where the sands no longer shine in the dark,
The dark mansion stood a former ghost of itself,
Where now the paint peeled and the light dimmed,
He felt neither happy nor sad; he knew it was due

**** them all,
The distance tonight was the furthest,
**** them blind,
So far yet so near,
He felt the blood and tears of the past,
And laughed at the fate of the forsaken

He went back to sleep.
Peacefully.
**** them all.

Vijaya Balan (2009)

Painted pictures come to life,
Twirling landscapes with subliminal words,
He gestures back and forth with life,
The white canvass transforms into a palette

You stood on the inside,
Wanting to go out,
You watched from the inside,
Wishing you were someone else

He’s driven around in a limousine,
With a stack of green bills to light his cigar,
He’s got it made and does not know you exist,
He dines with pomposity and drinks in gold

You stood on the outside,
Watching him dine and wine,
You watched from the outside,
Wishing you were sitting there.

She was a model, thin and tall,
Brawny and bright with a flair of the fair,
She smiled and danced, gyrating her hips
She partied until she could no more

You stood on the outside,
You wished you had her life,
You watched from the outside,
Wishing someone invited you
To life’s grand celebration

You did not know though,
The model died of drug abuse,
The tycoon was murdered,
And the artist…ahh the Artist!
That was you…that was you first and foremost
You forgot and you deviated!
You re-arranged your priorities

And now…and now
You stand on the outside,
You no longer can watch the world go by,
You no longer can wish,
You in a wooden coffin,
Being laid to rest.

You died yesterday,
Poisoned with affection
By someone who stood by
And watched you from the outside

Vijaya Balan (2009)

We came as an elegy enthralling your environment,
Our eyes, kaleidoscopic, intensified by the blazing sun,
Wet from the mid-autumn rain, we smelled like your returning
memories on a rainy Sunday morning,
Rapid heartbeats and racing pulses,
We took you away with us,
Enough, you suffered enough!
We'll close your system and open your boundaries beyond mortality

Your laughter resonates through the air,
Your lingering perfume permeates my nostrils,
What caught my eye, was your eyes,
Your radiant glow and dazzling eyes,
What caught my mind,
Were your witty remarks and mutual sarcasm,
I got hooked and never looked back,
Timing, all I can say,
Thank You!

Sitting on the bench on a windy evening,
The bus schedule doesn’t seem right,
He hears neither smoke nor that funky horn,
He longs for that journey home.

This trip back home had to come,
He breathes a heavy sigh, exhausted,
The weary look and the blank face,
The ***** cap hides the grey lines,
The silver watch still shows the time,
Tonight, he goes home.

“Mama, she taught me all she can”
“She worked the fields and the mills”
His eyes lit up at the sound of the engine,
The bus comes around the corner,
Dusty windshield with a crack,
Tires that have rode a million miles,
That’s where he’s going today,
A million miles back home

He sits by the window,
A bag with his world in it,
A wallet with pennies for a ride,
A card for what he used to be,
An identity that never matched the world,
Lost and found, stamped on his forehead,
Sitting in the ‘Return to Sender’ pigeonhole

Days of joy seemed short-lived,
Nights by the road seemed cold,
The rain drenched and the sun burned,
He closes his eyes and wishes it would change,
Dreams of a cottage and a convertible,
How they seem to be at a distant

“Mama, I’m coming home”
“Home is where my head lays to sleep”
No more of loud bangs and broken walls
No more screams and cries of the broken-*****
“I’ve seen enough, Mama”
“Of this world and what it can be like”
The misery and disease,
The war and terror,
Decades of violence and they never seem to learn,
An eye for an eye makes this world go blind.

It’s hard to smile anymore,
Yet, he still tries to manage one every day,
No matter how difficult the day appears,
‘Cause he knew it would have been worse,
He would have been dead under all that rubble,
No pulse beating and no Sun to see shine tomorrow

He’s smiling although his heart aches,
He smiles although his cold inside,
“I’m smiling…and I’m coming home Mama”
“Back home, to your lovely bread and strawberry jam”
He nods of to sleep,
The dark and hardened lines visible on his face,
He longs for his journey back.

Vijaya Balan (2009)

Electrons vibrate in the air,
Musty and foul in his lair,
Spiders crawl up and rats march the floor,
He gets a knock on his door

Flashes of memories linger,
His heart pounds with anger,
He crumples in anguish,
Death was his only wish.

The daily digest bore him with the rituals of rage,
The day masqueraded as time ticked for his age,
The radio blurted out static messages,
The speeches were of rage.

He opens the door, infallible and absent-minded,
The figure stood 8 feet tall,
Cloak and scythe, the usual routine,
Red sharp eyes peek out with an icy gaze,
“You wanted to take a shot?”

They found him dead on the floor,
He took up more space than he ever wished for,
Flies congregating where once there was a face,
Today the photos show his daze

He was the star of the masquerade,
The news of the digest,
People marched by in a parade,
The tortured soul laid to rest

Vijaya Balan (2010)